


Cracks From Within

by ClockStrikesMidnight



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Character Death, College AU, Flashbacks, Happy Ending, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki is a writer, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Mental Illness, Night Terrors, Self Harm, Slow Build, Suicidal thoughts and actions, Suicide Attempts, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony is an architect, basically this is if instead of loki going crazy, he just gets really really sad, hes also Lokis care taker, theres a cat though, violent themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:20:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4308408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockStrikesMidnight/pseuds/ClockStrikesMidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki Laufeyson has depression. He has serious depression. He wants and knows a way out and yet can't reach out and take it. This could be because of the helping hand of Tony Stark, who is determined to save him. Or at the very least bring a smile to his face. But Loki can't bare to admit that to himself. Not when he's this broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So this is merely an attempt to get back into the world of fanfiction and world of writing in general. As the tags say, this is rough, and please do not read if you're uncomfortable and/or triggered by any of those things. I do not know if this will actually become something expansive but I'm just writing as it comes to me. No beta, obviously. To those of you who read, I hope you enjoy.

=====================================================================  


Chapter One

He doesn’t know why he’s here. He doesn’t know how he got here. He doesn’t remember anything. All he knows is it somehow feels right. And that’s terrifying.

The crisp wind bites at his exposed hands and arms, causing him to shiver slightly into the darkness of the night. It’s got to be early morning by now, possibly two or three, not near to the time of sunrise. His fingers clutch slightly to the bridge, his entire posture rigid he now realizes. Looking up he notices the street light glowing an obnoxious shade of white yellow down upon him. He hadn’t noticed until now that most of the street lights were dimmed or black completely and that startles him for an unknown reason.

Looking away he turns his attention back to the depths awaiting him in the river. He can hear the soft waves that unintentionally splash onto the side shores, so small and delicate for something so enormous and ferocious. Pulling a gulp of air into his lungs he leans forward slightly over the bridge, going onto tippy toes. It’s a clear shot, no rocks to add more gore to the situation, and deep enough that the likelihood of survival, or worse, being found, is about as dark and formidable as the depth itself. He inhales sharply again. Could he do this? Could he really bring himself to?

As if on cue, an irritable car horn honks in his general direction. Turning his attention to the vehicle he’s momentarily blinded by the bright headlights in the near blackness. After his eyes focus a little he can see the color of the car under the street light, red, hot rod red. It’s a disgustingly familiar and unwelcome sight right now but he knew it was bound to happen. Always a loss of courage and too many tracks leading him to his location.

Sighing, both out of relief and disappointment, he releases his hold on the bridge railing, steadying himself slightly after the disappearance of support. The cars lights go black and all he can see is the outline in the faint lighting. He moves towards it.

The sound of a window rolling down makes him step up his pace slightly and the words he knows so well by this point echo out into the night.

“Come on Loki, let’s get you home.”

~One Year Earlier~

“Loki, you’re a brat.”

“Thank you, Thor, I am well aware.”

Indeed he knew after all. After so many times of being told so in different forms and with different intentions, he knows.

They’re sitting in a café on Third Street, Loki with his legs crossed, tight black pants adorning his legs and a green long sleeved shirt covering his torso. His now shoulder length hair is pulled back in a soft pony tail, barely raised above the nape of his neck. He only puts it back now because it’s too long and keeps falling in his face and he’s honestly just too lazy and uncaring to get a haircut. Sitting in his lap is a small journal, a new one, black, simple, the length of his hand and slightly wider in width. He’s scribbling with a black pen on the cover, and he silently admires the fact that what he is writing, doodling, creating, whatever it be called, disappears into the black nothingness of the cover of the journal.

“I think you truly need to seek help, brother,” Thor says, knocking Loki out of his mental admiration of a cover of a stack of papers. “You have not been well, I know this. You are truly irresponsible if you continue to do nothing about it.”

Loki sighs, exhausted from the conversation already, and rolls his eyes away from his brother. Thor, oh Thor. His blue pools of puppy dog eyes longingly look after Loki in that older brother, protective way, and all seems to be forgotten about calling Loki a brat only minutes ago. To be fair Loki did insult his choice of drink at the café, a small raspberry infused coffee drink that Loki was all too ready to opinionate and make shy into the corner. Thor’s wearing a tight fitting blue tee shirt, stretching along the hefty, muscled parts of his upper arms and around his shoulders. He has his legs spread slightly, resting each arm on one and leaning into the table slightly, probably trying to avoid being too loud about the topic at hand. Given that it is indeed touchy.

“I have told you, I do not wish to get help for this. I do not want help from others when the reason I’m like this is precisely because of them. I’m better off alone, Thor. My weaknesses define me as you all so well have pointed out.” Loki grimaces, staring down into his own drink, a small chocolate laced caramel latte with one mini marshmallow.

He can tell that his words hit a nerve when Thor groans slightly, leaning back into his chair and massaging his temple. “You give me a headache, brother.” He slightly laughs but Loki knows it’s forced. Of course he’s a headache. He always has been.

They sit for minutes uncounted, listening to the quiet bustling of the café living around them. They seem to be separated from it all somehow, like they are in their own world. Finally Loki can’t take it anymore, whether it’s boredom or mere surrender, and speaks.

“I must take off, Thor, I have an early class to attend tomorrow,” he says shortly, standing from his usual chair and grabbing his drink, still clutching his journal in his left hand. He can see the hurt in his adopted brothers eyes as he scrambles to stand up as well, meeting Loki’s fleeting gaze.

“I hope you know, I am always here for you, Loki. I know we are not related by blood but that does not change the fact that we are brothers. I will always try to help you,” Thor said, strong yet careful. Loki still wasn’t comfortable being called ‘brother’ by Thor but he got merely to the point of resignation on fighting the matter. He was called brother for fifteen years, the next six wouldn’t prove to wear the word down in Thor’s abundantly lacking vocabulary.

Loki doesn’t feel like fighting today so quietly mutters, ‘I know’, and turns to leave. Thor claps a hand on his back and nearly startles him out of his skin, squeezing his hands tighter and turning his knuckles white. “Do you like your book, Loki?” Thor asks, leaning over his shoulder to glance at it.

“Yes, thank you, Thor,” he nods graciously, not wanting to be overly rude over a matter like this. It was a nice gesture if he was truly honest with himself, and it meant a great deal that Thor acknowledged and accepted his love and need to write and supplied him randomly with things to write in, on, or with. He looks at the journal himself before turning to look at Thor. ‘I will see you again,” he says, and with that, turns to leave.

It feels good to finally be leaving, his old converse squeaking as he steps. The “meeting” with Thor had taken about two hours, two hours out of the time that Loki needed to get groceries and common necessities for himself and for Hela. It was easy to see why Loki was more sour than usual when Thor nearly begged him to come out for coffee. Either way he had gotten it out of the way and hoped that it would hold the more brutish of the two off for a few weeks, god willing even longer.

The air outside is cool, cooler than usual for a March day, but not unexpected or surprising given the climate of northern Oregon. He shivers slightly and grabs the ends of his sleeves, pulling them down to cover his chilled fingers. He knows the walk home by heart, could probably walk it blindfolded and deaf if need be. Crossing down the street he comes along the river bluff, the dark water lapping against the rock edges connecting up to the walkway alongside the river. He walks slowly, in no rush truly, there’s nothing he has to do now, well, there is but he doesn’t have the urgency or want to do them now, not after that. He has enough spaghetti noodles in the cupboard to last him a day or two and some French bread that should still be good, mostly anyway. And Hela can always fend for herself; she doesn’t need Loki nearly as much as he needs her.

Passing under the bridge connecting one side of the river to the other, he looks up, seeing the formations of bird housing units along the rafters. He smiles slightly at the brilliance of it, something so simple and seemingly impossible performed expertly and without thought or planning. Something Loki always admired was creation, no matter what the form, just the art of designing and making something whole. It was something Loki strived for in his writing and in himself.

Continuing on his path he reviews the information shared with Thor, about how mother was doing well, though her back continued to be a constant nuisance. Father, well, Odin, was fine as ever, a statement which made Loki grit his teeth in disappointment. Thor raised an eyebrow slightly at that but said nothing. It was still difficult for him transitioning, but it wasn’t something Loki needed to help him understand.

He then went on to explain glittering news about him and Sif, things Loki neglected to hear, and then finally got to the importance, or so Loki assumes, of the whole thing.

Loki was diagnosed with depression at age 9, taken in to be tested after an accident with a box cutter in the backyard where he cut the joints of his fingers, at first accidently, but you don’t cut five fingers accidentally. Frigga must’ve been watching him from inside and noticed his bloodied hand, running out with paper towels, a wet sponge and bandages.

“Come now, we need to get this fixed up before father sees,” she said, wiping away the blood and drying it before bandaging the child’s entire hand. Loki didn’t even flinch.

After that things only seemed to get worse. Incidents with Frigga’s hair curler, the stove top while making tea, anything sharp really. Loki still can claim that he didn’t even feel the pain. All he knew was for some reason it felt better to just have something to focus on, and hurting himself was that hook. After he told his mother this she frowned and sighed sadly, holding his small hand in hers and saying she was going to help him.

Of course this all needed to remain secret. From both Odin and Thor and for all intents and purposes the rest of the world. No one needed or wanted or cared for that matter about Loki’s condition, and if someone were to find out he was immediately shunned, laughed at, or beaten. Therefore it remained the duos secret, and Frigga was the perfect cover because she never appeared to be too afraid. She always had hope and trust in Loki to get better and to never cause intense injury. Needless to say she still had him speak with a psychiatrist on weekend afternoons when Odin was out doing God knows what. The psychiatrist did help a little, but only so much could be done and eventually Frigga gave up on the hopeful solution.

Thor had come now, all these years later, and asked to help. Loki always knew that Thor knew about his condition, but the older boy was always too worried or scared to say anything. With good reason, too, Loki wouldn’t have been kind to questions about it, and still wouldn’t be. However, Thor seemed now desperate, and Loki was at the point where he didn’t really mind if his brother took it under his wing to help him. It was all going to be shot down anyway.

Loki shook his head, the memories hurting his head and causing his body to become rigid and numb feeling. He only now noticed how close he was to home and left the riverside trail to walk up the slightly inclined grass hill to the train tracks that lay scattered in front of his apartment complex. Fishing around in his pants pocket he retrieved his key, a small keychain with two keys, one for the whole building and one for his apartment singularly, and a Severus Snape keychain he found years ago in the playground of his elementary school building. He smirked slightly at the memory and walked up to his building. The building itself was quite beautiful if he was truthful. Dark colored bricks and lots of windows, something Loki always adored in architecture. Small random bushes covered the perimeter of the ground floor and small red berries grew upon them, berries Loki had never managed to identify.

He clicked his key into the large, heavy, old school wooden door that was the face of the building and stepped inside, locking it behind him. The house was quiet, usually there would be some sound coming from one of the other rented rooms but Loki heard none. Thinking none of it he climbed the stairs at the end of the short hallway to the upstairs level, and walked to the third on the left, otherwise known as his home. Placing his key in the lock he turned it and walked inside. He was immediately greeted by Hela, her tiny black paws gliding her across the wooden floor to meet him.

“Hello, darling,” he said softly and the cat purred in response. She walked over to rub around his legs and it was then that he realized her food and water bowl were empty. Disgusted and disappointed with himself he scooted her aside and went to fetch her nutrition. She mewed in a thankful response and went on to eat her small pebbles of chicken flavored cat food.

Loki, exhausted suddenly and very numb feeling, walked over to his small leather sofa, one passed down from his mother, and plopped himself into his usual spot, remembering the journal still clutched in his hand. He turned it to page one, taking his pen and laying it against the page softly. Writing was always Loki’s crutch, his escape, his savior for his mental breakdowns. He was well equipped enough now to know when they were coming and fought back the urge to stand and look for something sharp. Pushing the pen harder into the page, he watched the ink splotch form, and hoped silently that words would come.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a short one, but it's got some necessary backstory stuff and a little cliffhanger to the next part.

It’s weeks before he hears from Thor again. Actually, it’s weeks before he hears from anyone again. His apartment building is eerily quiet throughout the day time and once the sun goes down it remains nearly the same minus the occasional shutting and opening of doors or the sounds of water rushing through the pipes behind Loki’s wall. Loki, however, doesn’t think too much of it, people move, things change, but it still strikes him as odd; now that he’s sitting here near sundown and hasn’t heard any sound in hours.

To say that it’s not welcome, however, would be an inaccurate assumption. Loki’s always been one to slink into the silence of situations, even seek it out if it came to that, and the empty void of silence was more comforting to him than awkward, like it would be for say, Thor. He assumes he inherited this trait from his mother, a reserved woman who felt no need to seek out social situations, but did not shy away, (mostly out of politeness), if one was to fall upon her. Loki’s “father” however, was boisterous in society as was the case with Thor, but Odin was always more secretive and condescending that Thor. The oaf couldn’t fathom something like that. You might think that because of Odin’s generally condescending and head held high authority that he and Loki would’ve made decent if not downright pleasant family members but that is not such in their case. Odin was always abusive to Loki. And though Loki, Frigga, and Thor all knew it was dreadful that they let these things happen to Loki again and again, none of them did much in stopping it. Even before Loki found out he was adopted, he was always treated like an outcast, a leper to the household society. Odin would yell and rage and simply put, destroy, Loki’s mental walls that he worked so well to build up. Walls that now are rebuilt after years of refuge from Odin’s abusive tendencies. Not only was Odin mentally scaring on the younger of the two children but he had also beat Loki on a few occasions, occasions which Loki likes to imagine happened out of pure rage and not that the old man was truly that cruel. Not that it mattered much either way.

Once Loki had been at home studying for a test he now doesn’t remember, (probably algebra 2, the least favorite of all of Loki’s classes throughout high school), when Odin came rushing up the stairs into his crawlspace of a bedroom to demand why Loki, Loki of all people, had pornographic magazines hidden beneath his bed. Loki had scoffed at the accusation because, truly, Loki had never been one of the over enhancing breasts of females placed on the covers of such magazines. In fact Loki had never been much of the person to idolize or gawk over any female. When Loki tried to explain himself Odin got impatient and backhanded Loki with the magazine itself. His eyes had burned with rage and shock and unknown feelings colliding together in a multi spectrum of human emotion and all he could do was stare away from Odin and try not to let the tears escape. Days later he had found out they were indeed Thor’s magazines, and he was hiding them under Loki’s bed to avoid a similar, albeit less dramatic, confrontation with his father. Loki cried for hours that night. Silent tears would sting at his eyes until they cascaded down his cheeks and to his pillow, thoroughly wetting it for the night. He had never felt so betrayed, and he didn’t know why and the feeling was entirely unwelcome and terrifying to the young fourteen year old.

The worst part of all of it was Frigga. She would knock softly on Loki’s door but he would never open it. He regarded his mother too highly to let her see him like this. When he wouldn’t answer for the first five or six knocks he would hear a sigh and then the gentle sliding of her body down the door frame. She would sit and wait out there until morning, or until Loki opened the door. Whichever came first. Frigga had always been Loki’s mother, and yes he knows that she really isn’t, but that doesn’t matter. What she lacked in blood she made up for in everything else that her the incredible woman she was to Loki, and the incredible mother.

Hella mews softly at his side and Loki is abruptly taken from his mental walk, jumping slightly and glaring down at the cat. “Oh darling, you’re always here for me aren’t you,” he coons and the cat meows again, more in agreement this time than the last. “What can I do for you?” He then asks down to her and she does nothing but sit in silence and stare back at him with her green eyes that match his.

Anyway, it’s been weeks since he’s heard from Thor. But tonight he hears the ringing of his phone and when he digs it out finds his brothers contact flashing on the screen. With a slightly reserved and confused sigh, Loki slides the phone to answer.

“Brother!” Is the merry announcement he is greeted with and Loki shudders slightly and clicks the buttons to quiet the device. “How have you been?”

“Hello, Thor.” Loki’s sneering slightly in the way he does, a little peeved that Thor is calling him so jollily and for a non-apparent reason. “I am fine. What are you calling for?”

“Oh Loki do not sound so upset at the sound of your brothers voice” (Loki coughs out a snort at that) “I come with good news! I have found someone who can help you!” Thor booms, and he honestly sounds much too proud of himself.

Loki’s face turns sour, angry even, and he can feel himself taking on a defensive standpoint. “You _what_?” He hisses into the phone, and he can feel his temperature rise slightly. “How _dare_ you, Thor?”

“Loki, please, you do not scare me. Hear me out, I met someone who is looking for a little extra cash and he said he’d be willing to keep you company and help you with your. . . problem,” Thor coughs uncomfortably at that. Loki is livid by this point.

“ _Fuck you_ , Thor. You have no goddamn _right_ to hire someone to take after me like a mid century prostitute! I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and I’ve been doing it for quite some time now thanks to you and Odin. I will not stand by and let you demean me like this, I do not need a babysitter,” Loki growls the entire thing and hopes that Thor can hear the venom leaked into each syllable. Loki can tell Thor is taken aback by the abrupt harshness in Loki’s voice but doesn’t particularly care.

“Loki, please. I want to help you. This man, Tony I believe is his name, I think could really help you. He is not a babysitter by any means,” Thor says after a few moments of silence. Loki honestly doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t need a care taker, he’s perfectly capable of controlling himself for the most part, minus the slicing and burning and generally suicidal actions he induces upon himself. Gaining a companion whose main goal is to “help” Loki, would only make matters worse.

“No, Thor,” he says finally, and moves his hand to end the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Tony will be introduced in the next chapter.


End file.
